Little Shepherd Winter Socks 2-Pack

The fire has gone out, and the smoke has melted into the cold mountain air. Silence blankets the autumn meadow — thick as wool. Only the little sheep are still awake, huddling close, warming the night with their breath. You wrap yourself in a lizhnyk, like hiding in your grandmother’s embrace. Hands cradle a mug of herbal tea, feet tucked into soft terry socks.